Oh, Brother
by indigowaterbears
Summary: Owen pages Amelia for a private consult in an on call room, but it doesn't turn out to be as private as either would like, when he pages the wrong Doctor Shepherd. Rated T/M (I think?)


_Not the best I've written, but man this was fun. Also not as graphic because I am pathologically unable to write anything that even sounds like smut, I turn into a giggling teenager and get nothing done, so this is probably the closest I'll ever come to that. I waas unsure about the rating, if anyone has any issues I'll gladly change it. Let me know what ya think._

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"Doctor Shepherd?" Owen's voice came through the lounge from the doorway. Everybody turned at his serious tone and then looked at Amelia, who had been munching on crackers, looking up like the typical deer in the headlights. When their eyes met, she instantly knew what he had to say, she knew what he wanted and gave him the slightest nod, ignoring the whispers around her. "I believe I paged you for a consult."

So he was going to make her look bad. He wanted something from her – not that she didn't want it, but he was coming to her now, so following this contorted line of thinking, he owed her. Making her look bad in front of her colleagues was so not the way to get what he was after. She cocked an eyebrow, but kept her voice detached and professional. "Oh, I never got the page. Maybe you paged the _other_ Doctor Shepherd. Chief." she added afterwards.

He looked down to hide a smirk. Why Amelia, why. Could she just see how desperate he was. She was making it worse for the both of them and, by the look in her eyes, she knew it and was thoroughly enjoying it. Owen gave a curt nod and made the gesture to check his phone. "He's busy anyway. Can you come?"

She nodded in a dramatically exaggerated way and let go of crackers and the tablet she was looking up charts on and stood, sluggishly slowly and dragging her feet all the way to the door, fully aware she had seven sets of eyes on her. Once outside the door Owen didn't even look at her, just walked down the hallways and into the elevator, checking in the corner of his eye that she was following him. When the sliding doors closed Amelia caught Owen's reflection in the aluminium lining of the elevator and smirked at him, not able to do anymore than that, seen as there were at least ten more people inside with them. She waited for him and when he got off on the sixth floor, she just followed mutely, half a step behind.

It was mostly deserted. The halls on this floor were empty, exception made for a stray nurse and a lost patient here and there. Before she knew it, her right arm was pulled to the side and when she regained her footing, she heard the door behind her back closing. Actually, she was being pushed against the door so hard that it closed. Yes, that was more accurate. It was, however, the last coherent thought her brain was able to form because a split second later she felt lips on her neck. Warm, talented lips on her pulse point, kissing and nibbling and suckling. Lips and the scratch of a stubble she always thought infinitely sexy, until she'd felt it on her skin and it turned to godly. A moan escaped her lips before she even knew they were parted and, when she heard a chuckle, she relaxed. She'd been thinking about this for two entire days. Forty-eight hours. Every single moment since he'd taken her to his trailer. Of course, she'd wanted to go back the next day, but Meredith and Derek were going out and apparently she was babysitting. And the next day again when a car crash victim came in ten minutes before her shift ended, with a subarachnoid bleed. Needless to say she'd been trying to find a way to get him alone for hours. They hadn't talked, but Owen's hands were saying all that either of them hadn't. They were all over her body. At first she'd felt them on her neck, merely making sure she wouldn't pull away or try something strange to get out of his hold. After she gave into his ministrations they migrated lower down, rubbing all the way over her sides a couple of times, lingering by her breasts – never stopping as long as she would have wanted – teasing mercilessly, finally finding their spot on her hips, his fingers were pressing in enough that she was quite sure she'd have bruises.

Amelia's hands were stuck on his neck, holding on. The shivers and tingles running all over her body, like a million electric jolts, were making it hard for her brain to focus enough to even hold herself upright. One of her hands was clutching the back of his neck, occasionally pulling on the hair there or scratching the sensitive skin lightly. The other was using his shoulder for balance. Owen's body was pressing more and more against hers with every passing second, trapping her between himself and the door. When he finally came up for air, he pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, which were turning into deep blue pools, her pupils were so wide they almost looked black. "Why didn't you answer my page?"

She smiled, frowning, her brain working at a third of its usual speed. "I didn't get it." she panted and when he arched an eyebrow, she saw that he was convinced she'd got it and decided to make him work for it. "Seriously. I didn't."

Before he could say anything else, tired of this mindless chitchat, she pulled on the hand holding his neck and made him bend down to her level, catching his lips with her own. Finally. She'd changed. She'd changed so much in the past few years she didn't recognise herself anymore. The Amelia Shepherd she remembered was a walking overflow of confidence, she had men left and right, she used them and then moved on. She'd moved to Seattle a number of months ago she didn't even dare to count and he was the first person she was even kissing – he'd kissed her, but it didn't matter. In a way, she'd realised, this was probably her finally growing up and maturing and behaving like all those adult people she saw every day. When her lips touched his, though, she felt that burning fire inside of her again. The confidence and prowess like candles lighting up again after a very long time, burning just as bright. It was empowering and it made her feel alive in ways she hadn't been in so long. She felt wanted and needed and that was far more attractive than a stranger in a bar. Not that she went to bars anymore. At her sudden control flip, Owen's hands travelled up her body, stopping here and there for mere seconds, reaching up to cup her face, desperately trying to get her to stay like this. So, when her tongue darted out to touch his lower lip, he tilted her head to deepen the kiss. Making out in on call rooms wasn't a novelty to them, but after the three hours they spent in his trailers making up for all the times they were interrupted here, it felt like a puddle compared to the ocean. It felt good. Very good, but it just wasn't enough anymore.

With a mind of their own Owen's hands travelled back down her body to settle back on her hips, the touch was more delicate this time and she briefly wondered what was up with that. She did, until she felt them slip back to grab her ass. She gasped into the kiss, a sound that was half surprised and half asking him to tear away her scrubs – and his – right that instant. Instead, as gently as before he moved one of his hands to the back of one of her thighs and pressed to lift it up, hooking her knee around his hip. Catching his drift, Amelia wrapped an arm around his neck for support and, with his help, wrapped both legs around his waist. His hands settled on the back of her legs, holding her up, letting the door take most of her weight – not that he couldn't have held her up all on his own. Amelia's hands tangled in his hair and the rest of the world paused. They were not the chief of surgery and the head of neurosurgery, it sounded like a joke put like that – technically they were, their phones in their respective pockets felt like ticking time bombs – right this second neither could put two words after the other and make sense. Testing the hold of her legs on him he took away one of his hands for a few seconds, when he was sure she wasn't about to fall he held his hand up. Looking curiously at him, Amelia stopped kissing him momentarily, entirely captivated by his hand. Noticing her distraction he pressed it against the door, palm flat on the wooden surface, and he took a moment to take her in, flushed cheeks, wide eyes and parted, swollen lips, before he pressed her into the door even more, using his hand as leverage. Suddenly feeling his body moulding into hers Amelia moaned and her breath itched in her throat when he started biting on that little spot where her neck and shoulder met. Feeling her whole body turning to jelly, control slipping from her so fast she barely registered it, she tightened her legs around him and rolled her hips against him, getting an animalistic growl in response.

Owen pulled back and looked into her eyes, Amelia staring right back into his. The playful smile on both their faces was a challenge to the other. Owen wanted to be in control, he loved it and loved it even more when she fought him for it. On the other hand, Amelia was teasing him and was enjoying every second of it. The look they were sharing was so intense neither wanted to break it, all four eyes dazed and impossibly wide, their uneven ragged breaths matching perfectly. It was Owen that leaned in, slowly, so slow it made her impatient, and kissed her gently, softly, not at all anything like their kisses until a few seconds ago. She kissed him back tentatively, curiously, testing what he was about to do, calculating the perfect response, but he did nothing. He moved his hand and put it back under her leg and lifted her a little against the door, eliciting her surprise and catching her attention. Her eyes were now fixed on his, trying desperately to read him and figure out what he was about to do, all the same letting him have the lead – for now – entirely captivated by his sudden change. Never breaking eye contact Owen stood straighter, leaning back a little, taking her with him, testing his balance and, once he was standing away from the door, he took a couple of steps to his left and set her down gently on the dresser there. The grip of her legs on his waist slackened somewhat, the muscles there burning from the effort.

When he just stood there staring at her Amelia felt her patience growing thin, she had no idea what was going on in his head, rather she didn't care as long as he kept on what he just stopped. Pulling him forward with her legs – as close as he could get with the dresser in the way – she then disentangled them and grabbed the swinging sides of his lab coat dragging him to her. It was a bit awkward, the dresser was barely the same height as Owen's hips and was rather narrow at the top, Amelia was doing her best, but she kept feeling like she was about to slip off. When he finally leaned in, she kissed his neck keeping him in place, deciding she was done letting him take charge, because apparently all he wanted was to waste these precious, totally too short few minutes to stare at her and she was so not okay with that. He could stare out in the hall or in the cafeteria. While one hand was pressing on the back of his neck, the other pulled roughly at his lab coat and Owen, all caught up with her, helped her shrugging out of it on his own. Once the lab coat laid on the ground – Owen had unceremoniously tossed it behind him – his hands moved to hers and in a matter of seconds her arms were free and wrapped back around his neck, his own arms going to her waist pushing her body into his. She looked into his eyes and in an instant their lips crashed back in a kiss that had nothing of the sweet and gentle one they'd shared earlier. This one was passionate and hard and bruising. Neither wanting to stop, noses and teeth clashing occasionally, hands pulling everywhere they could reach. Only when Owen's hand finally made it under her scrub top Amelia broke away, groaning at the skin on skin contact, his big, calloused hand leaving a burning path in its wake. Owen looked down at her, eyes closed and lips parted, and decided to add in his other hand meticulously mapping out her back and sides, she was tiny enough that one hand could reach around to her opposite side and Owen knew exactly what that did to her.

Amelia wasn't thinking anymore, she was running on primal instinct, almost an animalistic version of it, she bit into his neck and sucked hard on his skin letting him know exactly what he was doing to her, hoping in the back of her mind she would regain enough motor skills to do the same to him – worse if she could. The second he relented her hands slid around his and slipped under his scrubs as well, gripping his back, when she felt Owen's breath hitch against her skin she smirked. Apparently, she was still lucid enough to torture him a little longer, before he rendered her completely useless. Her hands trailed from his back, around his hips, to his stomach. She felt is abs tense under her hands and she started tracing all the bumps and planes there, dangerously and seductively slow. Too slow and when Owen's hands slipped in her scrub pants, he'd untied them sometime earlier, she pulled the string on his. That's when he grabbed her hands, looking at her pointedly. Tired and frustrated of this back and forth with him, slow then fast then hard then gentle, she took her hands from his and took off her top, locking eyes with him once again. Owen was frozen, she was sprawled right there, in front of him, half sitting up on that damn uncomfortable thing, her legs still loosely wrapped around his waist. He let his eyes wander, it was nothing new, yet every time it felt exactly like the first. Especially the black bra she was wearing, the chief of surgery in him noticed it was inappropriate for work on so many levels, it was turning him on just thinking if it was the one she wore everyday or today was just his lucky day. It looked so unpractical and uncomfortable he wanted to believe she had put it on for him exclusively, secretly hoping he was going to pull something like this. He could have sworn he'd been looking at her for just a few seconds, but apparently the time he took to memorise the lace pattern and the way it was way too see through to be an actual bra, was making Amelia _very_ impatient.

She grabbed two handfuls of his scrub top and pulled him down. Hard. Lips crashed and he let his hands roam all over, enjoying the freedom. Her legs wrapped back around him, keeping him in place, done with waiting until he was done staring at her. _Take a picture it'll last longer_ , on a second thought, maybe not. With her luck he'd send it by mistake and it would end up plastered all over the hospital. She so didn't need that. Glad he wasn't pushing back, but seemed to catch her warm invitation to stop fucking around and actually – she let out a sound she'd never heard before in her entire life. It was a moan, a high-pitched moan of pain mixed with pleasure, almost like a squeak. He was biting and licking and kissing and doing all kinds of thing to her neck shoulders and chest. It seemed taking off her top had been the push he needed to turn right into a caveman. She felt all the joints in her body slacken and she quickly tugged on his top, not sure she'd manage to make him pull away to get it past his head and arms. Amelia, however, had no time to enjoy her conquest as he reached down to her breasts. She couldn't do anything else that wasn't hanging onto him for dear life. Owen hissed as he felt her nails dig into his back and pressed her hips harder into his, in an effort to have her release her hold on him somewhat, without having to stop what he was doing. It was so intense that neither Owen nor Amelia heard the door opening, someone gasping and closing it. Their brains were so blurry and fuzzy that by the time they both realised something happened the door was closed as they had left it. They looked at each other and a confused set of eyes met an even more confused one, eyebrows raising asking without uttering the words. They were breathing heavily and their glistening, flushed skin felt like it was about to catch on fire. Owen's eyes were focused on her chest rising and falling heavily, her ribs poking out every time it expanded and he just couldn't look away. Some time later, maybe seconds maybe minutes, it was hard to say, the door opened again.

Derek's jaw was laying at his feet on the floor. When he'd opened the door his brain had automatically put Cristina in there, upon recognising Owen, it was the logical choice. Ten steps away he remembered Cristina didn't work here anymore and lived in another continent entirely. He walked those ten steps in three and swung the door open again. It was a second too late that he registered what he saw. His baby sister and Owen half naked, looking like in a few minutes they would have been completely naked.

"Derek get out!" he heard her yell and he realised he was staring at her, with the corner of his eye he saw Owen stepping away. He closed his eyes, actually covering them with his hand getting his bearings back to him. Taking a deep breath he eventually took his hand away from his eyes and turned to Amelia with a scolding gaze. "What?!"

His eyes bulged, his heart rate rising dangerously. "Amy."

She sat up, cursing Owen under her breath for chickening out and grabbing his top, putting it back on, something she'd do gladly if only she knew where hers was. She sat there, a leg bent on the dresser the other dangling out. In her bra. It was her brother and that was the only reason she wasn't trying to cover herself up like a twelve year old at the beach. He looked mad. He had no right to be, but he was mad. "Oh, come on. Derek I'm old enough not to need this."

He shook his head, covering his eyes once more. It seemed his sister had no problems sitting right in front of him without a shirt – hell he'd seen her naked plenty of times – but his eyes kept falling to all the angry red marks all over her shoulders and neck and chest and – stop it, Derek. Close your eyes. Turn around. You can have this conversation later. Still, when he noticed she was wearing only one shoe, the other one lying forgotten near his feet he felt rage once again. Inexplicable rage at that, he knew she had quite the habit of sleeping around and she was right she was old enough. A combination of big brotherly concern and frustrated board member ire at having to sit through a meeting for… _this_ were still burning inside of him. "Why, then?"

Amelia was getting mad as well. Clash of the titans. Also, Derek had no right to stay, to have close the door behind his back trapping both her and Owen into the room. He had no right to do this – hell, her mother wouldn't have a right to do this. "What the hell, Derek. Why do you even care?"

He stepped closer, thankfully – or not – he was not as affected by the fact that her top was still on the ground and she still had wet spots on her. "Because!"

"Because what?!" she yelled, sitting straighter, sadly her legs wouldn't hold her up if she tried to stand so this was the best option at the moment. "Derek just go!"

Owen and Amelia saw Derek's eyes turn red. When he stepped forward Amelia Owen, who'd been standing a few steps away the entire time staring intently at the exchange, stepped in front of Amelia, his arm going over to her, his hand resting on her waist on the opposite side to where he was standing. "Derek…"

"Get your hands off her."

Amelia snorted. Loudly. It was impossible to miss. "Defending my honour? Derek you're twenty years too late for that." Gently she took Owen's hand in hers, it was no use keeping it there when it was only irritating her brother to no end. She looked down, letting her own anger dissolve, obviously this didn't look good. It was norm in this hospital to hook up with everyone in within your reach, apparently, but she wasn't just another one of his colleagues. "Derek this is-"

Unfortunately, Owen chose that moment to interrupt her, despite his best intentions, igniting Derek's rage once more. "We can all talk about this in a few minutes."

When Derek's eyes turned to Owen for the first time it wasn't rage they saw in them, but confusion and utter loss. "Owen this is Amelia."

He nodded a bit dumbfounded, glancing briefly at Amelia. "Yes, I know who it is."

"You're sleeping with my baby sister?"

Owen was a bit disturbed by Derek's wording, it made it feel a lot different from what it actually was – not that he had any idea what that was either. He looked at Amelia, but she just rolled her eyes and groaned, shaking her head and looking down at her lap, wanting no part in this pissing competition. Owen, still confused and unsure what the right answer was, if there was even one at that, looked at Derek gathering his army posture, the couple inches he had over Derek made no difference right now. "I am."

Derek's eyebrows went up, both sighed, the anger was gone. It left all the space to disbelief and maybe just a hint of disappointment. "You're like my brother. You're my wife's twisted sister's ex-husband and you and my little sister…"

"Okay." Amelia stood up between them, grabbing the strings of her pants when they threatened to fall over her hips. "That just made this whole thing sound so incestuous and wrong."

Derek opened his arms and nodded at her. "See where I'm coming from."

Amelia huffed. At the rate things were evolving between her and Owen she knew she had to say something to him soon. Soon, though, didn't mean now, especially not right now. All her pent up frustrations were coming out on top of being endlessly annoyed at the interruption. "What are you even doing here?"

"Owen paged me."

Amelia turned to Owen. She wanted to scream, pull her hair out. She'd been right all along about that and, from the look in Owen's eyes, he'd firmly believed her to have ignored the page deliberately. She groaned and balled her hands at her sides. "Well, he's busy now." She sent Owen a look that clearly told him he was going to pay for that.

Owen stepped up behind Amelia and they stared at Derek, while he tried his hardest not to stare back. Staring back meant seeing all those marks Owen had left on his sister's body and he just – couldn't. He was a grown up and deep down he knew Amelia was too and he also knew Owen and knew he was a good guy, so really he had nothing to worry about. As if.

Derek hung his head. Breathing deeply. Inhale, exhale. If he could by chance look at this in a way that didn't seem so completely and utterly wrong – because it wasn't – maybe it would be infinitely better. Maybe Meredith could help him see… oh, damn. Meredith. He rubbed a hand down his face. "Oh, this is such a mess."

Amelia frowned, irritated by his statement and this situation was turning entirely ridiculous. She was still standing with no top between looking back and forth between her brother and Owen like a tennis match. "No, it's not and it's definitely not your mess, so if you could just go-"

"Can you _please_ put something on?" he asked, averting his eyes, not at all comfortable with this. Owen wasn't ecstatic about Amelia still being half naked either, but he could see his eyes linger – from time to time – for a few second longer than necessary on her and his nerves tingled anew. "Please."

Amelia smirked and put her hands on her hips, the pants had been tied back up so there was no danger of ending them falling to her ankles. "No." she said stubbornly. "Because you interrupted something and now you're leaving and we're never talking about this. Ever. Bye, Derek."

Derek looked up at Owen, who just shrugged, not wanting to get in between them, knowing it was completely useless and an incredible waste of energy. Derek looked at Amelia. "Amy he is the chief of surgery."

"Why, I know that Derek." She said smugly, knowing exactly what he was doing and planning to enjoy every second of it.

"He was married."

Amelia grinned. "So were you, _while_ you started dating Meredith."

Derek groaned and realised she was going to do this with every single thing he'd thought of. He wasn't trying to warn her off Owen, he was infinitely glad it was Owen and not a random resident he'd walked into. All he wanted was to make sure she knew what she was doing, after all she'd come here running from another man as soon as he'd popped the question. In addition, he knew if he walked out of this room, he then wouldn't be able to get a hold of her for days unless she was trapped in an OR and that obviously wasn't the place for this conversation. He stepped closer to her and leaned down, Owen was right there, but this was between him and his sister. "He's my friend. He's almost like my brother by association."

Amelia's smirk was frightening. To him. He knew his sister well and she was indeed his favourite, but she had always had this way of driving him crazy, there were times he hated her for it. So she leaned in closed as well, hands still on her hips, the red marks turning more and more purple every second that passed. "So was Mark." She whispered theatrically, raising her eyebrows.

Derek's jaw went back on the floor. He didn't need to ask. He had known Mark very well and knew Amy very well. There was no need to make sure he was getting it right. He was horrified and tasted bile. Mark braided her hair and read her bed time stories. Apparently, he slept with her too. Gross. "I, uh…" he raised his head looking at her. "I need to go. I'll see you both later at the board meeting."

He walked out of the door never looking back, not even for a second and they both groaned at his last words, marvellous. In this hospital they were actually entitled to hold a meeting to know who was sleeping with who, it was beyond ridiculous. Nevertheless, Amelia turned back to Owen with a triumphant smile on her face. "Finally." She breathed taking handfuls of his scrub top and dragging him back to her. But he resisted her. He was looking down at her, his arms gripping her ribcage holding her at arms length staring down at her with a stern look in his eyes. "What?"

He tilted his head to the side, but when she didn't seem to get it. "You and Mark Sloan?"

Amelia stared up and saw the glint in his eyes. It bothered him. When she'd thought about how it would affect Derek she had completely forgotten about Owen, rather she'd just thought he wouldn't mind, her mind was focused on getting Derek out of the room so they could finish what they started. It seemed, however she'd achieved the exact opposite when Owen handed her her scrub top and pulled his lab coat back on. When the high of making out slowly wore down she looked at him blankly, he had no right to be mad about this, but she got the distinct feeling she'd screwed up big time. Holding her head down she dressed back up, pulling her hair into a pony tail knowing there was no fixing what Owen's fingers had done. When her hand pulled on the door handle, dejectedly trying to open it to go back to work, his hand covered hers, wrapping around it, taking it away. Amelia turned to look up at him and his gaze was as loving and as dazed as it had been that night in the trailer. His other hand went to cup her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb and she felt like melting all over again. She just looked up into his eyes, giving him permission to do whatever he wanted. And he kissed her. Kissed her for what felt like minutes, passionately, slowly, delicately, when he pulled away she looked up through half open eyes at him.

"Sorry, but there was no way I could… uh, not after that." When she gave a smile, releasing all the tension that had been building in her, he smiled back. "You can come to the trailer later. Whenever you get home." And with that he opened the door, holding it for her, keeping a hand on the small of her back until they were out in the hall and went their separate ways.


End file.
